


Find Your River

by RustServant



Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Emotional Baggage, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Permanent Injury, Post-Canon, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-16 05:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17543354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RustServant/pseuds/RustServant
Summary: Two friends, on Alternia or otherwise, lament about each other and their own imperfections.





	1. Side A

Vikare remembers everything about his friend. Their voice, the way they carried themself. The anguish on their face when they saw Vikare, splattered on the ground, legs contorted and, with guilt, broken.

"I flew! For a moment, but it still happened! An ecstasy like none I've ever known!"

Vikare wouldn't wish that pain upon anyone. He thinks that his friend was in so much of it that they had to leave, looking at him all googly-eyed and vacant. He can't feel his legs, buckaroo. Come down here and help a pal out. If Vikare thinks about the pain he felt when he raised his hand to give a reassuring thumbs up he can almost feel it again. He wants to help the alien, his new friend shouldn't have to feel this way. Vikare's mind runs rampant with words. So many words, he can't say them all, but he wants to! It just hurts. Hurts too much to not even register the full calamity of it all, what this means for his life. His dream.

They're rampant, alright. Vikare's goggles are cracked and he feels glass cutting into his cheek, bronze blood leaking, warm, sharp, even with the rest of this pain. "You're a fine fellow. And truly, a truly superb friend," he adds, sounding jovial enough to help the alien get themselves together. Vikare is used to wanting things he can't get, whether it be equipment or food, but help is what he _needs_ right now. Vikare tries to communicate this. When he can't make sounds his body-- drat, that won't budge either! Vikare's head keeps running, soaring too far above to grasp a single thought. He passes out like this. Vikare has no clue about how he ended up at his hive the next day, with a wheelchair waiting to be assembled. The alien must have helped. It warms Vikare's bloodpusher to think that they came through for him like that.

It's been a perigee since the alien went missing.

Even longer since Vikare’s last seen them.

It doesn't feel like a perigee to him. The passage of time no longer resembles a passage, more like a video played in slow motion. But some days pass by quick! It's not all bad. Vikare still works on his flying machines, just on and off. When he wants to.

Which isn't often.

Vikare wanted to do it back then, too. He wanted to do it so badly. He revolved his entire aesthetic around it, which he could change, but he clings to it. Doesn't want it to leave. Because when people suggest that he's easy cullbait for a drone it makes him feel better. Did his friend get culled? It would explain why they disappeared without a trace. The remaining parts of their ship are in the same place as when they crash landed, so they didn't go back home. Vikare should have helped them rebuild it. Maybe then they wouldn't have left.

Wherever his friend is, he hopes they're happy. He thinks about them when he looks at the sky, the two moons are in full view tonight. How funny would it be if they were on one of those? Close to Alternia's surface, their friends, in the vastness of space. Nothingness.

They would be terrified. 


	2. Side B

You wish you tried harder. For all your friends. You wish you stayed with Ardata, you wish you never led Fozzer to that white light, you wish you helped Zebede sort out his _thing_. The more you sit in this room, reading this webcomic, it dawns upon you that you fucked up more than you could've known. It's not all your fault, you tell yourself. You helped save Skyyla's lusus. You listened to Stelsa's ramblings. These achievements are minuscule in the grand scheme of things, you're sure the asshole you've come to know as Doc Scratch would be delighted to tell you, but it mattered to them. It matters to you.

Vikare matters.

You slump in your seat, rubbing your temples, brain feeling like television static. You've read far enough to know that all of your friends were killed in the Vast Glub. You've been wearing the same sweater for so long that Mallek’s symbol on it is losing its vibrant color, and you notice that as you grip it while you still process that pain. You treated Vikare like _shit_. The bronze troll in this webcomic reminds you of him. His long horns, his whole thing with flying. Every time something bad happened to him you felt guilty, because he looks so much like Vikare, and reading Vriska lamenting over her decision to kill him began to give you a deeper understanding of your feelings. Then the Beforus stuff came along, and you spent a long time thinking about what your friends were like on that planet. Tyzias would've made the justice system fair. Marsti would be a doctor. Maybe Vikare would never be able to fly in this universe, because he's too soft for Alternia and someone would tear him down, but you still feel bad. You'd rather him put everything he has into an attempt than you cutting it short.

You could mope and lament about what a fuckup you are all day. If only time would reverse back to when you decided to check out that fourth wall. Time. _Time_.

There's still time.

You rise from your seat, carrying all of your guilt. You turn away from the computer, the screen that you were forced to look at for god knows how long. This is the most empowered and badass you've ever felt and all you did was get up. There's no artificial desire for friendship in your soul, everything you feel, everything you _regret_ is born from you and you alone. You will own up to your mistakes. If it fucks up the timeline or paradox space, _good_. Doc Scratch can reverse everything you do from this point forward, can erase you from existence, your friends just need to know that you tried.

It's kind of a dumb decision. No, it's _really_ dumb. You know what Doc Scratch is capable of, if you got caught he could do some crazy shit. Maybe he'll decide that your friends aren't needed for his plans and have them miraculously die. It doesn't stop you from opening the door, and it doesn't stop you from seeking out the fourth wall. None of the classy green furniture distracts you this time. You can hear chaos in the distance, chaos that you have witnessed in webcomic format. You give it no more time than a sidelong glance.

Well, this is it. There's a finality to this moment, standing before the fourth wall. Will your decision be reversed if you die? It could be for real. No, Vikare suffered and never got a 'good ending'. Everyone else had to live with your choices, and you will live with yours. Damn, you think as you step into the fourth wall, that's deep. Boldir would be proud.

You land, not ass first for once, in Fozzer's corpsefield. Ouch. It was that easy, huh— you'd love to spend the night in this dirt but it's probably poisonous. Your feet almost touch the fourth wall, you're either crazy or they're being gravitated towards it. Shit, you just got out, and you crawl away with a jolt of energetic fear, the white, alluring light hitting the spot you were just at. You're now at the edge of the hole, in the face of Alternia's purple light and not the freaky artificial one. The green decor on the other side is still visible.

If Fozzer comes across this, you don't know what will make of him. The unearthed, bizarre energy of this device can draw in passerby as easily as it had to you. Your brain freezes like a record player, _he already did_. No use in repeating events.

You scamper out of the hole, faced with miles upon miles of tough, rocky dirt. Which way do you go? You remember nothing about your pathway, and everything here looks the same. You don't know how Fozzer navigates through it all. Where is he? The guy loves Trizza and the empire, but you have a spot in his heart! Guess you're all alone on this one.

But you aren't. As you begin your long walk, feet almost dragging against the soil, you remember that centimetres under you there are trolls of many ages and castes. Okay, no, that's too depressing. You keep your eyes on the prize instead, metaphorically, because there is nothing to look at but dirt and gloomy skies.

You haven't traveled in ages. You keep going for hours, leaving the corpsefield, the skies becoming a purple you're more comfortable with. And to think you used to wander without aim, without purpose, waiting for a situation to appear. All by his design. How else did you just get the sense that those thirty trolls were friend material? There were no qualifications. You passed by so many trolls that gave you gazes of scorn and pity. Even now, as you enter Outglut again, you're aware of all the trolls looking at you. What kind of alien with red blood sees someone as deadly as Chahut and decides they'll befriend her? Or a figure basking in moonlight at just the right angle to stress their preferred features, using a _toy_ like it's an advanced contraption? In the middle of god damn nowhere?

You would do it all again, just for them. You won't stop until all of your friends are given the time of day. They have their flaws, sure, but everyone does. You do.

Vikare's hive sticks out among the rest. It's the only one you recognize. You don't look away from it, your legs desperate for you to say otherwise, hurting like hell. A bus drives past you and you try your hardest not to give in. You're willing to steal a scuttlebuggy again. But before you know it, the legs to Vikare's hive are in plain sight, and you lift your gaze to see his lusus relaxing on the roof. Emu, you think it was? _Canary_. You remember it in Vikare's silvery voice, or, you think that's what his voice sounds like. You haven't heard it in so long.

You continue your walk, nervous, and Canary awakens. His head twists almost robotically, assessing you with wide eyes. He makes a deep rumbling noise in his throat. You're off put. What is he doing? Canary stands up on his long legs and the noise increases in volume. He stomps on the roof, leaping off of it to stand next to you. It startles you, the door swings open, a breathless and panicked Vikare standing—  _no_ , he's— he's not standing. Why does this surprise you?

He's sitting in a wheelchair, the kind you have to manually push. It looks carelessly put together. The only memory emulating your current feelings was when you watched Konyyl kill all those people. You feel disgusted. Not at him, but yourself. You're a _monster_. You failed to make him happy, to make him a friend. You did this to him. With the others, those times you accidentally killed weren't real. Well, they were, just not- _what are you doing you're just **standing** there and your journey made you so tired_. The world needs to give you a fucking break.

You can't go back. You knew this, so why did you— your feet move on their own. You take a step back, then again, and the only thing keeping you from running away is Vikare's dismayed expression, you can't even see his eyes but you're sure it would've broken your heart if you did in this moment.

"Wait! Don't go, friend!" He yells, waving frantically. He's leaning forward like he's about to leap from his wheelchair and run to you, but he _can't_ , he's so afraid of losing you again that he speaks laconically. No galloping graveys. No heavens to biscuits. If you weren't feeling like a heap of garbage hours ago then you certainly are now!

"Hold on. My legs are currently preoccupied. Busy being broken, you see!" Vikare calls out to you. His face softens after he said that, wracked with emotion. Wracked with a lot, actually. You don't blame him. "No, I— I apologize, my socialization is quite rusty, my intentions were never to— I'm speaking the literal truth, you can see it, it was not a jab or a grab at you personally!"

He sounds so apologetic. There's nothing to apologize for, you say, your breath quickening. You startle when Canary nudges you forward with his beak, urging you to lessen the distance between you and Vikare. You take a step, another, each one feels like you're chained, pulling a tremendous weight, and Vikare is on it, going down the rudimentary elevator with eager palms. He's on the ground, and you're advancing to him. Every step feels like you're walking a mile, the distance not even one anymore and you're right in front of him.

The moment is silent. It's frightening, because Vikare always has _something_ to say, his canines are biting into the lips that are acquainted with moving. You don't know what to say. Would it be right to speak at all? You hang there until Vikare's lips contort into a smile of all things.

He's smiling at you like the first time you met, when he was scavenging parts of your ship. He's smiling like you haven't hurt him, earnest and unapologetic. Is— is he not mad? No hard feelings?

" _There you are_ , my dearest chum," he greets, a warmth in his voice that can only be described as tender. A hand rests on your cheek. You can see your reflection in his goggles as he regards you like you're the most important person in the world. Hell, you must be, to him. "My doubts have been skirmished by your return. I knew that my one friend would never leave me in the dust."

Well, this is a surprise. A good surprise. You thought that he would be mad. Not that you'd blame him, it's justified. And you try to justify yourself by letting him know that you don't know how much time you have.

Vikare's head cocks to the side. "What do you mean?"

Look, a lot has happened and you just returned. To not give it away, you say that someone from a different planet took you away from everyone. You don't specify who, or that you read a webcomic during the time you were gone, or the moon that trapped you. It would be too much info for him to digest. Your statement was enough for him regardless, because he's smiling just a bit and who are you to complain?

"So out of every buddy that you have acquired thus far, I was your top priority?"

Vikare's smile is widening, a cordial smile. A comforting sense of familiarity settles within you. Saying whatever makes these trolls happy for a taste of that sweet, sweet friendship. You've still got it! Doc Scratch taking away your friendship yearning did nothing to stop you from friending trolls with ease. A little too much ease. You can see yourself forgetting the buildup to this, someone that stays in their place and act like they're meeting Vikare for the first time. From the look he was giving you earlier, you know that was something you were compelled to do, somewhere. Not here.

"What ho! I was right!" He cheers. Like it's some kind of victory. Always finding joy in the small things in life. "This is turning out to be a splendid day, I can feel it."

He's giddy. You guess that meeting your other friends conditioned you into expecting worse reactions. Not that you hold it against them, they have to be the way they are. And somehow, Vikare didn't get the memo, the worst thing he does is gather bones from creatures he didn't even cull. You're more violent than he is. Why can't he see how wrong it is?

This is wrong. _You've_ done him wrong, you say as you sob into his touch. Claiming that you don't deserve his kindness is an understatement. It was so hard to maintain all your friendships, and you kept getting more, you were forced to get more by this insatiable desire that now leaves you so hollow. You shouldn't even be here right now! You kept thinking about Vikare and kept shoving him away, and you don't even remember your reason. Was it guilt? Did your need for more friends drown it out? Or did he just not matter to you?

Vikare holds your face in his hands. He looks dumbfounded. You're crying and sniffing and he doesn't wipe the tears, he just remains there, waiting. Unsure. You aren't sure how many seconds pass before he nods his head, attentive.

"That sounds like a lot to deal with."

_Not as much as he must have gone through_ , you reply. Your breath is just as shaky as your voice. If you moved from your spot you're certain that your legs would give out like jelly. You took away his legs and now you're taking the conversation, making it a pity party revolving around yourself. It was never about you. You were just a pawn, maybe not even human, but he's here, he has to suffer everyday because of some dumb mistake that you made.

Trolls are supposed to be ruthless and bloodthirsty. You try thinking back to what Ardata said, when you were building that table. No, when you were feeding her. The memories blend together. Think! You've lost track of your river. Your chest feels heavy, like you're drowning in all these memories that didn't happen. Sentences keep stopping and starting. You sound like a broken record. Vikare's watching you, his mouth agape. Vikare poured his heart into the sketches he showed you. He became attached to something forbidden on Alternia and now that it's impossible to obtain he lost sweeps worth of time and research. He's going to spend the rest of his life staring out into the blackness of space in an unfamiliar ship, the sky so far away. Alternia so far away. You're reminded of what you came here for.

You tell him that you're sorry. It's all you can say without fumbling over your words like a dumbass. You should've thought this through.

Vikare's hand comes down to grip your shoulder, steadying you. He looks you firmly in the eye, his voice gentle, facial features strong and prominent. He could kill you at this very moment if he so desired. It's expected of him to. "Please, calm down. I am marvelled that you thought so much about me. Your speech shook me to my very core."

But he won't.

His hand leaves you, trusting you enough to stabilize yourself. He removes his hat, revealing a head of curly hair. You've never seen him like this before. Next his goggles, and... is he crying? Vikare is an emotional guy, he's been hiding a lot behind those accessories.

"See? You got me emotional, too! You're not alone in that department, being a bit of a softy myself is something that potential chums aren't fond of!"

How does he just casually admit he has no friends like that? Vikare shakes his head.

"Let's not take a detour." His voice breaks, like how— stop that, you. Follow through on one simple thing. A single choice. You hope Vikare stops you. _God, please stop me_. "Truth be told, this is the biggest decision of my life. I've been raised on the ideology that I never had a choice. But you, you continue to change my life!"

He wipes the tears running down his cheeks. You have an urge to do it for him. "Which is why I wish that you give me more time. Canary has not had any chow for the day. Care to accompany me?"

Not again. So quick to trust you with his life, again. He pops on his hat and goggles, the same cheery person he was before. "I'm not falling off any more cliffs, chum, I would like to spend more time with you!"

How could you say no? You make your second choice, unbounded by the cueball man's whims, it's just you.

You let him lead the way. You don't trust yourself with that kind of responsibility. It's awfully reminiscent of the first time you've done this, the first friend you ended up hurting. Vikare, receptive as he is, notices your gloomy mood and takes a different route, away from the cliff he falled off of. You're grateful. The bustling city feels safer, even if you know the truth. Every time you were in some barren area strange shit happened, like you were being punished for not acting out Doc Scratch's desires. It made you never want to ride a scuttlebuggy alone.

As you stroll around town with your friend you notice a figure not too far away from you. Small, and jade. It's Wanshi! Your heart soars at the sight of another friend, and one that doesn't like murder. Wanshi takes notice of you and beams as you approach her, running past Vikare.

"HOLY SHIT!" She yells. "I thought I'd never see you again!"

Vikare frowns. "Holy mackerel, small one, what a foul mouth you have! Who taught you that?"

Wanshi crosses her arms, crinkling her nose at the taller troll. "What're you gonna do, snitch on me?" She accuses, "I'm not throwing these words around like a wriggler, I know what they mean."

You learned from the incident involving Konyyl and Azdaja and decide to step in. You ask Wanshi about the other jades. You miss them all, but Daraya in particular feels like a stab to the heart. She asked to accompany you if you ever left this planet. It was a good thing she didn't, in retrospect. Wanshi relaxes.

"They act like everything's in control, but I can tell they're broken up inside," Wanshi goes on. "Daraya's the only one being overt about it- she's been crying a lot."

Oh, fuck. That's not good. You already have so many things to feel shitty over, and you don't want to add to the pile of friends you done dirty. You want happy friends!

Vikare voices your concern. "Our friend is back now! Why don't we pay her a visit?"

Wanshi shakes her head defiantly, her dreadlocks swaying. "No way! I'm not going back to the caverns, I just got out!"

As much as you'd love to visit Daraya, you know Wanshi won't cooperate. You'll stay low for now, but after you sort this out Daraya is the next person you'll visit. You turn your attention to Vikare.

"Where are you headed, little one?" He asks.

"The bookhive! They have so many Soldier Purrbeast books there!"

She's been walking for quite a while, then. You don't want to parent her, because Wanshi is smart and capable on her own, but she's so young. And this is a planet full of murderers. If you called up Bronya she'd have to go back to the caverns and get lectured, taking away her freedom.

Wanshi is staring at you like she just got caught stealing from the cookie jar. "Hey. Alternia to alien."

You ask her what she wants. Wanshi takes a step away from you.

"You look like you're gonna tell on me," she says. Her intelligence startles you, and it shouldn't, you already know she's smart. You underestimate her, and she hates that. "I've snuck out a bunch of times. I would've gotten culled by now if I didn't know my way. Didn't you think of that?"

No, you haven't. Wanshi flexes.

"Youth rolling comes in handy!"

It won't save her from a troll out for blood. Wanshi groans. "Fine. If it'll make you feel better, you can bring me to the bookhive. But don't tell Bronya or Lynera!"

* * *

 

Having just accompanied Wanshi, you smile to yourself. Seeing your friends again makes you feel whole, like your desire for friendship hasn't been ripped from your chest and mocked before you. It's not a _desire_ , not anymore. Companionship. Hell yes, you think as you walk the streets with purpose, that's a much better word. Vikare propels behind you, which in retrospect might've been why you were grabbed by the arm when you neared an alleyway, a hand over your mouth to prevent you from screaming. Vikare startles and enters the alleyway, fearing for your safety. A hand covered in cheeto dust releases you, the stench undeniably Kuprum himself. You're surprised at how strong his grip was. The guy's diet must consist of cheetos and soda, not a nutrient in his body.

He's laughing, loud lols that reverberate throughout the alley. You try to repress the unnerving vibes he's giving you. Kuprum is your friend! Vikare is beside you, naive as ever, not knowing what he got himself into. You hope Folykl, who must be nearby or Kuprum wouldn't be looking as stable as he is, will keep him from mentioning Trizza.

"Glad to see the normie returned to their natural habitat," Kuprum says. If he had pupils you assume they would've flitted to Vikare as he's addressed with a widening smirk. "Who's this loser?"

Your friend is not a loser! Kuprum laughs at your rebuttal, overjoyed, and Vikare gives you a glance, almost to tell you not to fight a battle he's trying to avoid.

"Offended much? Tfw the normie can't answer a fucking question, lol." If you didn't know him better you would think that he was angry. You've seen him angry. Kuprum's psionics are stable, and underneath his crude tone is a friend glad to both see you again and have new company.

A voice raises above Kuprum's. "Get back here and paint my nails. We only have fifteen minutes."

Fifteen minutes for what? Kuprum looks at you like you should already know. Folykl is sitting on a garbage bag, her hair in a ponytail, and wow, she's actually wearing shoes. Mismatched shoes, but still shoes. Her dirty nails are covered in newly applied red nail polish. She got a real glow up, looking like a diamond in the dirt.

"Until my date, stupid," she returns, leaning against a wall behind her.

Vikare is unfazed by her remark. "Splendid! Who is the lucky chap?"

Kuprum turns his attention to Folykl, kneeling down to continue painting her nails.

"Some rust chick named Marsti." His hands are featherlight, meticulous. You presumed he would end it there, but he continues. "The normie can tell you about her, they're the reason she met Fol, lol."

Upon being addressed Folykl's head rotates to your direction. She's almost looking you in the eye.

"Our date is by Tugon. Ever heard of it?"

"No, but I wish you the best!"

"Tugon my bliss jut!"

You don't think that's how the joke is supposed to go. You try voicing this, but the shadow of a drone hangs above you and your friends as it passes by the alley, searching for something. Kuprum drops the nail polish, psionics sparking in his hands, and from the way he bites his lip you can guess that he didn't mean to do that.

"Shit." Kuprum stands up, more of the purple and yellow sparks coming out of his eyes. "Time to go."

"So soon?" Vikare asks, seeming to have recovered from Folykl's joke. You can hear his disappointment, transparent must be his middle name, and the urge to view this bronzeblood is enough to draw Kuprum into its grasp. He looks _amused_ , and Vikare smiles. This is the closest thing to friendship Vikare has gotten. You wouldn't call yourself his friend.

"Mfw when the loser asks such a dumb question," he says, grinning despite the panic, looking at Vikare and Vikare alone. "Pranking indigos was a bad idea, idiots cling to drones like moths to a light. Sucks that I can't spend more time with you, lol."

Folykl turns her head to you and her lips form what you think is a smile. "It was nice seeing you again. I enjoy your company."

You're touched. That's the nicest thing Folykl's ever said to you!

"Any company is good company when you spend all day with this fucker. And that poor rust is more blind than me if he can't see a tugon joke coming for him."

Kuprum slips on his backpack and/or battery(you can't tell nor want to ask), the straps digging into his waist in a way that looked painfully tight. "He's a bronzeblood," he corrects his moirail without looking up from his current occupation, adjusting the straps. Folykl snorts. She looks like she would rolling her eyes if she had any. She leaps onto his back, climbing to the top to look down at you and Vikare. A stray lock of hair falls onto her face.

"Off to my date," she taunts. Kuprum's grip fastens on the straps and he grins as Folykl tugs his hair. He's off, running down the alley with his girlfriend, the automated buzzing of a drone somewhere around you. You should go, but watch Kuprum look back at you and your friend with a wave.

"That was something," Vikare says. He's still viewing the direction Kuprum and Folykl ran, the opposite of you. He turns his wheelchair around before it can get awkward, already propelling away with more speed than you've grown accustomed to expect. You're panting when you catch up to him. You really should be used to running from drones.

Now you're in another part of town. You think it's inhabited by midbloods? Not the best, not the worst. It's all unfamiliar until you spot a building bigger than the others. A mall. You freeze.

You know this place. It's one of your preferred locations, one where no murder occured. It was where you got to know one of your preferred trolls, too. The movie playing or the color of the seats have the place in your memory, taken up by the moment you shoosh papped Polypa. Your moirail. She's strong, more than you. She must have her feelings under control. Losing partners is a normal thing for her.

Vikare is stricken with alarm. You have no time to search his expression, much less ask what's scaring him. You hear running, you have a second to process the fact that it's to you. Claws that pierce into your skin take hold of you. You feel suffocated. This is it, no, you're being embraced. By _Polypa_ , and with this realization you can excuse her tight grip on you. Her moirail.

You missed this. You missed her.

"It's really you," she whispers in your ear. "I thought you were a goner."

Yeah, you say. It's a long story. You focus on this moment for now, so that you never forget it. Polypa's strong grip that makes you feel so safe and comforted, burying your face into her long hair to hide from omniscient forces you know you can't escape from, her gentle face with sharp features and yellow eyes.

"Before you ask about Tegs, you know how he is. Didn't want to come with, too focused on his show."

"How could anyone wish to miss out on the thrills of adventure?"

Polypa just now seems to notice Vikare's presence. She looks at him, then back at you, and then him again before chuckling.

"I didn't know you had a matesprit," she teases. Her face quirks into a grin and you panic, trying to correct her. Vikare copies you but with wild hand gestures, presumably to make up for his lack of functioning legs to move around with.

"Me and my chum are none of the quadded sort, our commitment is wholly platonic!"

Polypa laughs. Your moirail looks cute when she's happy. "Okay, calm down. It was my fault for assuming anything." Her eyes are playful when they examine you. You can't believe that you missed Polypa this much, so much that you want to go with her. But you have another friend to attend to. You still have to see Daraya after this, then Fozzer, or Tyzias if she has the time. You have so much to catch up on and an unknown amount of time. Polypa spots the stress on your face, her hand coming to shoosh pap it with expertise. The gesture makes you feel warm and safe.

"I know what stress looks like, believe me." You're being cradled in Polypa's arms and you don't care. What were you doing again? Right, finding food for Vikare's lusus. You explain this to Polypa, your head dangling to look at two of Vikare's fingers thumbing the small zipper to his coat.

Polypa's mood doesn't change. She gives you an understanding nod. "It's best you look out for one another. A crippled bronzeblood and an alien don't exactly blend in these streets." She gestures to Vikare. "It's a surprise he even managed to live so long like this."

That's a good thing, right?

"Of course it's a good thing. He's lasted longer than some of my partners, that's for sure." Her gaze is telling you something else. You give her a thumbs up to let her know you get it. It's cool to be in on things.

"The name is Vikare Ratite." Vikare holds out his hand for Polypa to shake. "I'm a big fan of interstellar flight!"

Polypa takes it, but doesn't shake. She could probably break his arm. The last thing you want is another broken limb, or broken anything. "I'm Polypa Goezee. You must be my moirail's friend."

Not friend, you correct her. Vikare lowers his head. You try to ignore it and focus on Polypa. Where's she going?

"Going to see a movie," she lies. You can see it in her face. "It's starting in five minutes." She sets you down on the ground. You wish you could go with her and actually watch a film, but you know she's assassinating tonight. She gives you and Vikare a friendly look.

"You're leaving?" Vikare asks. Polypa nods solemnly. You hope she's not faking it.

"I'm working on some mecha designs later, so if you want to see me... don't."

You wish she didn't have to lie so much. There aren't any shoosh paps, she looks away and at the rest of the world. Polypa blends seamlessly into the environment as she heads out without a goodbye, a gentle moirail one minute, a deadly assassin the other.

You leave once more, leaving the city and out into more familiar territory. Where nature replaced buildings and wildlife sung over the sounds of death and mayhem.

* * *

 

Vikare delicately plucks the red, blue and white flowers. You remember him telling you that Canary would eat all kinds of bugs and leaves. With a charming smile, one that's too charming for his good, he hands you the ones with blue petals.

"For you," he says, and the sight of food brings an ache that makes you realize how hungry you are. You shouldn't accept these, Vikare must be as hungry as you, but you put them in your mouth and chew the blue petals. As you eat Vikare shoves the red flowers into his pockets. The scent fills your nose, your mouth. It doesn't really taste like anything, but you'd take it over the slime you've seen some of your friends eat.

"It's clear that you mean so much to those other companions of yours. Accompanying you made me feel some of that compassion, being part of their lives," Vikare says as you swallow, feeling rejuvenated. He means a lot to you. Please, don't think otherwise. Vikare jolts. He rubs the back of his head, looking away from you. You feel like anything could break the connection you both share, and paradox space would tear you apart.

"Pardon, old timer. I could not help but notice some similarities between the two of us. Care to let me explain?"

You're puzzled, but nod, sitting down on the purple grass. It's shorter here, and comfortable enough. You've gotten used to listening to trolls spill their life story. Vikare looks like he doesn't know what to do with this amount of attention. He draws in a breath, trying to gather his words.

"Egads, I hope I do not sound rubbish for saying this." The air is calm, bright purple skies and colorful moons dancing up above. It's nice to just blend in with the environment, even if you are an alien that sticks out like a sore thumb. "All of these unique buddies you have gathered, even a quadrant filled, and I feel so far away from you. My only pal. You are truly an enigma."

Well... if Vikare wanted to know more about you, he could've asked. Anyone could ask. But after Zebruh shut you down, you found that going with the flow and saying what people wanted you to say gave you that lovely friendship. Does Vikare think you condone murder? This stupid caste system? Hi, you're an alien and you like games. You also like all your friends, Vikare especially, and you spent a long time thinking about him. Maybe he should appreciate that you came to him out of all your friends. You could've easily went to Mallek, or Barzum and Baizli, or chill with Cirava.

Vikare raises his hands defensively. "I do appreciate you! We are lowbloods that don't tickle Alternia's fancy. When we roam the bustling streets we are looked down upon. I know the gazes of pity all too well, and so do you. Don't you feel the sense of kinship, struck between us like fate?"

Your hands dig into the soft soil. Seeing anyone else would've been simpler than this indecisive moron you can hardly understand. What do you know about Vikare? You stand up to his size, pointing at him accusingly. Liking 'flying machines' isn't a fucking personality trait. No wonder he has no friends. Vikare bites his lip, and is that a sniffle he's trying to hold back? What a big baby. How dare he try to compare himself to you. To _you_ , someone with a lot of friends. A celebrity gave you more attention than a fan could ever dream of.

" _I was trying to say_ —"

You've had it. You're done playing this game. You were an alien that crash landed on Alternia, previously leading a dull life. Friends were interested in you because you were a novelty, a lackey. For someone known for their wacky antics, you sure are boring. It was only because of the forces above that you made it this far. _Liking games isn't a fucking personality trait_ , you never have a say, you just do things, you lost your way and your desire.

So, you say, don't **ever** compare himself to you. Your legs finally give out and you let yourself become one with the dirt. You adore his speaking style. You think his interest in flying machines is so charming, _he's_ charming, with his puffy jacket and his warm smile. You're nothing like him.

Your trembling body writhes when Vikare picks you up. He's holding back... something, you don't know if it's tears or anger and you're too tired to lift your head to see what. God, you're sorry, you're so sorry. What has gotten into you.

"Shh," Vikare says, his voice soothing you. "I forgive you."

You don't deserve it.

"Yes you do."

Vikare's hand cups your head. He lifts his goggles, eyes watery. "It was hard, wasn't it? Your time on your planet."

It was. But he has it so much worse. Vikare shushes you again, and you sob. No one on Alternia let you cry like this. It's so cathartic.

"We are different species with different cultures and experiences. That sounds easy to grasp, doesn't it? Your bloodpusher never had time to rest here. You gave each and every one of us a chance, you came back for us." He hugs you closer to him, sighing. "And on this cruel planet, I can see that you are a well meaning individual. It wasn't your fault. Not for this, not for nothing."

You blink in acknowledgment. Vikare's wheelchair begins to move, and you stay for the ride. There's a comforting silence as he maneuvers around, until he stops at a place you haven't visited in so long. You look at the remains of your spaceship.

"This is what gave me hope while you were gone," he tells you, "your question about if I wanted to fly and leave Alternia? I do, old timer. I want us to soar the air and lead a new life on your planet. Your friends must be as unhappy about their futures here as I am. If I must fly a spaceship I will do it for friendship! For freedom!"

What about flying machines?

"I have not forgotten about that. How could I? I am... unsure, how I could use a flying machine in my condition. But there are sketches back at my hive. Sketches of a new set of robotic legs I could walk in."

You never spent the money you and Azdaja split, did you? You forgot about it when dumpster diving for a costume at Ardata's party. As Azdaja said, Duel Strifers earns a ton of cash. Would it be enough?

"No need to worry, chum. I have saved some dollars. Perhaps with a collaboration of efforts we can have new legs and a bigger spaceship made, what do you say?"

You never selected a choice this fast. Vikare cheers, hugging you tight and smiling the brightest, goofiest smile you’ve ever seen. You hug him back. You don't regret a thing. It's just you and him, two friends that were separated and shouldn't be standing here right now. You could care less about what Doc Scratch thinks. This matters. If Vikare doesn't remember, so be it, no time shenanigans can take back his overjoyed smile, the tears of joy he’s shedding. You wipe away his tears, he's babbling about _something_ and you've never felt this intensely for anyone. It's all yours, and Vikare’s all yours, he's right here and the entities watching you can't do anything about it.

You never want to look back.


End file.
